


Teaching Math in the Tower of London

by Brilcrist, Stidean



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Attack on Q-Branch, Distraught James Bond, Fan Comics, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Art, M/M, MedVac, OMG such fucking awesome artwork!!!, One-Way Communication, Sole Survivor, Stubborn James Bond, brilcrist, ofc death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 20:31:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brilcrist/pseuds/Brilcrist, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stidean/pseuds/Stidean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A deadly attack on Q-Branch, leaves Q reconsidering his professional future, as James makes his way to him before a lone assassin can get to him first.</p>
<p>This work is ENTIRELY inspired by the AMAZING Brilcrist and her original work, which you can find here:<br/>Pages I & II: http://brilcrist.deviantart.com/art/bond-Q-comic-page-1-2-339016062<br/>Pages III & IV: http://brilcrist.deviantart.com/art/Bond-Q-comic-page-3-4-339015941<br/>Pages V & VI: http://brilcrist.deviantart.com/art/Bon-Q-comic-page-5-6-340747390<br/>Pages VII: http://brilcrist.deviantart.com/art/Bon-Q-comic-page-7-340746524</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teaching Math in the Tower of London

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brilcrist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brilcrist/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Untitled](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/27115) by Brilcrist. 



"Q?"

 

"Bond? Bond, are you there?"

 

"On my way. E.T.A. 15 minutes. What is the situation?"

 

"Besides the explosion that ripped through Q-Branch, killed or disabled all of our handlers, operatives and minions and left me bleeding profusely from a stomach injury left by an unnamed, faceless… **ARSEHOLE**? Sorry, sorry… bullet wounds make me a bit rude, apparently."

 

"How is it you have been shot but have not been killed? What happened to your assailant?"

 

"Anna… I mean Operator Chancellor. The pretty thing with the crooked nose..? She shot him but succumbed to her own wounds… she, uh… she shielded me from the worst of it."

 

"Where are you?"

 

"Holed up in the hallway leading to my office. I couldn't make it all the way there. Stretching my body as I crawled wasn't very good for me; like fire in my stomach. I did take a small tablet with me so at least I have access to the building's CCTV… and a few other things. Is this why you NEVER return your earpiece? Do you always keep them in case of something like this happening? You always claim you lose them… Christ, 007. They're expensive! Are you making a necklace out of the old ones every time we issue you a new one?"

 

"Q. Can you pay attention to the CCTV? The explosion was a first assault. The second wave is most likely…"

 

"Bond. There's no second wave. It's too late, though. He's already here."

 

"He? They only sent one?"

 

"Yes. He's got a clear path to me. All he has to do is keep up pace. I'd say he'd be here in about 7 minutes, which means… Which means it's the, uh… the end of me… You know, it's funny. Not 'Ha Ha' Funny, just 'Blow your brains out the day before winning the lottery' Funny. I always wondered what it feels like to be you; always a heartbeat away from death. Being safe in this bunker… well… You think of death as something that happens to other people; I mean death of the violent variety, of course. We’re not under any delusion that we are immortal, but we do spend most of our time in here; us geniuses. He's 5 minutes away, by the by. He's faster than I thought he would be. Might be an ex-employee, or just well versed in the true schematics of the building. He seems well trained, as well; already killed a few guards who were unwilling to evacuate. You know? Now that I come to think of it, most of the shots were aimed at me. They even… Oh God…"

 

"What?"

 

"My scrabble mug. It shattered. Bastards. Not that they weren't bastards before. They did kill what could be considered to be all my friends, since they are the only people I see and talk to regularly, and they did destroy what could be considered to be my flat, since I spend so much time here. Still, I loved that damn mug. Shit. I'm getting maudlin here. Not a good sign for me, is it? Wait a moment. Bond, are you still on your way here?"

 

"Of course."

 

"What for? There's nothing to save. Use the emergency protocols MI6 set up for situations like these. We spent bloody months devising and revising them. The courteous thing would be to actually make use of them. You can't save me, James, and I've already vaulted away the critical information from being accessed by anyone coming from outside. Don't turn sentimental on me now. Look. I know we prepared for… the other thing to happen: for you to never return, or for you to lose interest, or for one of my contraptions to kill you. We just have to adjust the situation to work for us in reverse. Hm, not easy to think of me in heaven. Not easy to believe in heaven… not for people like us. Well, we don't even believe in Heaven."

 

"We? You and me or people in our line of business in general?"

 

"We, um… we Jews. We don't believe in heaven. I think we just spend the afterlife sitting at the feet of Abraham or something like that… Well, I was **raised** Jewish… What was I saying? Oh, yes. James, take the safe option and use the emergency protocols… wait, what was I saying before? Oh, after taking out the guards… they aimed at me… it's m… It's me they wanted. Either dead or incap… no. They were shooting to kill, not incapacitate. They wanted me dead, not taken. I may… James… I may have pissed off the wrong people…"

 

" **WE** are the wrong people to piss off, Q."

 

"Then we pissed off the wronger people. Wronger… is that a word? Doesn't matter now, I guess. They had all their pawns lined up, sent in for the assault. All toppled, one by one. And all of them going for the King or, in this case, to clear a path for the Queen to get to the King. Oh, shit. That means I am the King. And the King does fuck-all in chess… I don't like this analogy anymore. 2 minutes Bond. He got stalled on the way, may have been using slightly outdated schematics. You know, if I'm the King, he's the White Queen. The piece sent in to do all the real work. And MY Queen is still 7 minutes away, at the very least. Sorry. I know you probably hate having me calling you a Queen."

 

"Why are they the white pieces?"

 

"They made the first move, James. Christ. I should have taken that Theoretical Mathematics teaching position I was offered. So much simpler. Less madmen. If by some miracle I survive… can we rebuild Q-Branch in the Tower of London?"

 

"Why the Tower of London?"

 

"I don't know… Seems safer, and rather apt. I really should reconsider my career in espionage. What do you think James? Math teacher is a cool enough job… don't you think?"

 

"Yes… Yes it is."

 

"Where are you? Getting cold and ti… oh, shit, I forgot. You're not gonna make it…"

 

"Nearly there Q, just… just please, keep talking, please stay on the line with me…"

 

"I never even told you my real name… never got to hear you say it to me. Use it affectionately or to scold me. I'll never hear you moan it during, or sigh it after… Oh Christ James *sob*. No. No, fuck this. It's just blood loss. I'm fine. No maudlin crap. Just get here and kill the prick as he makes his way out."

 

"Q. I am coming and getting you **OUT**!"

 

*BANG*

 

"What… what was that noise? Q?"

 

"James, he's here… I think he shot someone in the next room. Oh fuck, Anna… James. I think, I think he found me… James… My name… my… my name, it's…"

 

"Q."

 

James shot through the back of the assassin's neck and emptied the rest of his clip into his head, once he landed on the ground, just for good measure, before reloading the gun in a flash. He looked at me as he pressed the earpiece controller on his watch.

 

……………

 

"M. I got him. Yes. Yes, right away."

 

……………

 

The look he gave me. The helplessness, easing into quiet relief, as he looked up into my eyes. And then he slumped forward just as I crouched down to his level and my world stopped spinning. The energy it took for me to not respond throughout the conversation, while I was making my way to him. All the reassurances I held back because I couldn't afford to lose focus. They all threatened to spill out.

 

"Hey, I got you. Q, Look at me… Q? **Q?** "

 

The loud sirens mixed with the sound of hovering helicopters outside. By all accounts I shouldn't have been able to hear them, this far deep underground. Maybe the hole on the side of the building helped. Maybe it was just shock and I was imagining it. Either way, I put my back to the wall, laid Q on my lap with his head under my chin, as I held the gaping wound in his stomach, and aimed at anything that dared move without first identifying itself. It's all a bit blurry but I think I shot someone in the foot. Medvac? Poor guy. I think I missed , though. He was quick enough. I kept aiming at them even after they reassured me with proper identification; even as they were patching Q up. Fluorescent lights humming, some flickering. Made me jumpy. There was no question about me being evacuated with him. Maybe I did hit the guy's leg. They sure were compliant. No argument from any of them.

 

I spent the night in one of those shit chairs they have for visitors. No luxuries within the health system. It doesn't matter if MI6 continues to exist because of your brilliance. Your loved ones will still have to break their backs, worrying about you.

 

"Knock, knock"

 

"Eve?"

 

"Room Service, Mr. Bond."

 

"Why are you here?"

 

"Just delivering your package. Oh, and Mallory is outside. Wants to talk about the incident."

 

"Why not use the bloody phone?"

 

"It's urgent, he said… How's… how's your Quartermaster?"

 

"My… yes, well… Guess they've been going through the transcript of our conversation. He's, uh, he's been sleeping all day. Aside from the massive blood loss, he's relatively unharmed. Anna… Operator Chancellor. She uh, she shielded him from the worst of it."

 

"Does he know she stalled the guy when he passed by her by grabbing his leg?"

 

"He does now. At the time, he thought she had died of her wounds. He said… he had an inkling the assassin had killed someone while he followed his blood trail to his position in the hallway. He heard the gun go off. Q did say her name, though I think he just mentioned her because the shot that rang out reminded him of her. Anyways, the doctor said he needs a few more days until he can get around. After that… Well. I have some time-off coming to me, though I don't think Mallory will take too kindly to me using it right after a devastating attack on HQ. I'm not going to **ask** or leave him many options, though. Besides, I'm the only reason he still has a Quartermaster, and we both know MI6 would fall apart without him. I'd dare say it's a fair trade. I'll take him away."

 

"O.K. Good. I know M has been bitching about a report on the whole thing, but I can handle that. You two… take care. O.K? Take care of him."

 

"She's gone, Q. How much longer are you going to pretend to be asleep? Look, I understand you still don't want to talk about it, but it's over now. Please don't shut me out… Please? O.K. I'll go and take care of whatever's bothering M. Oh… and about that teaching position. I was just joking."

 

I leaned down to put my lips to his head, lingering slightly longer, comforting myself in the warmth.

 

"I'd rather have you here. I'll be back in a minute."

 

*Click*

 

Before he left, James had unwrapped from the brown paper bag an identical mug to the one I had lost. He set it next to my glasses on the bedside table, with a tiny note hanging from it: 'Get well soon, 007'

 

I couldn't help but smile at that.

 

'Dammit James…..'

**Author's Note:**

> Again, MAJOR props to Brilcrist, who's approval I have to post this for everyone to enjoy.


End file.
